


Seventh Chance

by ExecutiveShrimp



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Christmas, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Religious Conflict, Sappy, Sexual Content, get-together, making amends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveShrimp/pseuds/ExecutiveShrimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, 2x1, ONESHOT: This year Duo finally gets the chance to right an old wrong that has stood in the way of him living his life for the past seven years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventh Chance

**_Seventh Chance_ **

The doormat said 'Welcome,' but he never felt welcome in this house anymore, even though it had been his home. Every year he came back with the same question, and every year he left without an answer.

Parked cars crowded the driveway. Under a veil of fresh snow, sparkling Christmas lights lined the edge of the pediment and wrapped around the supportive pillars that flanked the front door. The front lawn was dotted with snowmen, each a reflection of the child who made it, with the assistance of a mom or dad, of course. The scent of cigar smoke lingered about the front porch, a sign that someone had occupied the space recently. Ever since the birth of the first grandchild over 10 years ago, smoking was no longer allowed inside the house.

Fingers stilled on the iron cast knocker as the sounds of muffled, subdued merriment echoed through the front door. He dreaded the uncomfortable silence that would descend as a result of his arrival.

He cast a look to the left, to the neighboring house. He could see the Christmas tree through the window of the study. Through another window he saw the neighbor at the kitchen sink; her mouth was moving, her shoulders were swaying – she seemed to be singing along to a Christmas tune. He studied the cars in their driveway and wondered what their Christmas would be like, and if their son would be home for the holidays for the first time this year.

He adjusted his grip on the bag of presents tucked under his arm and finally knocked. As he waited, he wiped the shoes off his boots on the "Welcome" mat. It didn't take long for the oak door to swing open and he was greeted by a familiar face, lips curved in a sympathetic, yet pitiful, smile. The small expression was warm with all the best intentions, but made him shiver nonetheless.

"Baby brother," she said and stepped aside to welcome him into the house.

"Ada." He nodded in greeting; only then did he notice her belly, framed by her red sweater. His mouth went dry. She looked several months pregnant – five at least – but he was never told. "Another one?" he asked dumbly.

"Yes. We really wanted to keep trying for a boy."

"Well, you know how that can turn out," he responded wryly. His comment did not amuse her. The smile faltered and she hurried to close the door behind him, mumbling something about the cold wind.

"Is it a boy? Or are you waiting to find out?" he continued – he was so awkward.

"It's a boy."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"So I guess I have to bring one more present next year." He chuckled but again, his attempt at humor failed.

"You don't have to buy them presents if you don't want to, Duo."

"Sorry. No, I- I didn't mean it like that. I love bringing presents for them. It's the only thing that keeps them from forgetting about me."

Ada put her hands on her hips. "You could visit more often, if that's what you're worried about."

He nodded, but opted to not point out that she never extended such an invitation to him. If not for their mother, he would not have this one day, out of the entire year, to see his family – Christmas.

Without further ado, she walked into the living room ahead of him and announced his arrival like a proper warning: "Duo is here!"

As expected, the crowd went quiet. Duo stepped into the living room with his head ducked between his shoulders and an apologetic smile on his face.

"Hi, everyone," he said with a half-hearted wave. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," the group mumbled in unison. Some cast worried glances to the corner, to the cognac-brown leather lounge chair where no one was seated – not anymore.

One by one, his other sisters came forward to greet him. All three of them were much like Ada in the sense that they would always love him – he was their baby brother, after all – but in varying degrees, they had no patience, understanding or respect for him.

Duo got along best with Poppy; she was only a year older than him and more free-spirited than the other sisters. She knew what it was like to be considered a disappointment by father, unjustly so. As such, of all of them, she blamed him the least for the implosion of the perfect family that he had caused. But, just like them, she wished he was different, or would've at least continued the lie.

"Hey, newlywed," he said as he greeted her.

Poppy slapped his arm playfully. "Hardly 'newlywed.' We're celebrating our second-year anniversary in April." She motioned to a tall, blond-haired man who idled by the other men. At her beckoning he approached and she introduced him. "Duo, this is my husband, Nathan." She beamed with pride.

The handshake was short and weak. "Hi, Nathan. Merry Christmas."

"Sorry we missed Christmas last year."

"No, I get it. Hawaii, right?"

"Maldives."

"Oh, sure." Duo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Where are the kids?" he asked, turning to the older sisters. Poppy didn't have any children, not yet.

Ada supplied, "The boys are sledding in the backyard. The girls are helping mom bake her traditional Christmas cake."

"Where should I put these?" He nodded at the plastic bag still tucked under his arm, nearly bursting with presents.

The second oldest, Elfrieda, said to him, "Under the tree of course. Here, let me." She took the bag and started arranging the presents under the tree. She hardly hid her disdain at sight of the unimpressive wrapping paper fully decorated with the store's logo.

"Thanks," Duo said to her. "I'm gonna say hi to mom." He took a single step but then stopped himself. "Is Dad in there?" He pointed his thumb at the kitchen.

"He just stepped outside for a smoke," Ada replied. It sounded like an accusation.

Assured that the coast was clear, Duo strode into the kitchen and beamed a smile when his mother's face lit up at the sight of him. Her face was dusted with powder as white as her hair, and handprints, adult and child-sized, marked her green apron and the skirt of her printed dress.

"My son!" She exclaimed with great joy.

Four little faces looked up from the batter that grandma was mixing. The look of anticipation at the taste of sweet cake was replaced with sheer excitement.

"Uncle Duo!" Emily, the oldest, was the first to sprint toward him and wrap her arms around his legs.

He picked her up with an exaggerated "oomph!" and said, "My God, you've gotten big! Last time I saw you, you were just a little ankle-biter like Bethany." He nodded at the six-year old that approached with some apprehension. "Look at you now!"

Emily flashed him bright smile. "Uncle Duo, we saw each other last year when I was nine already! I haven't been an ankle-biter since I was little like my sister!" She chastised, but Duo knew she liked it whenever he over exaggerated how much she had grown.

"Oh? Well, then I guess it's safe to put you down." He put her down and as soon as he did she dropped to the floor on her hands and knees and pretended to bite his ankle. He let out a mock-shriek and hurried to pick her up again, upside-down. Emily roared with laughter as she watched her younger sisters, Coraline and Bethany, and her niece Breanne, all reach for his ankles with tickly little fingers.

Ada stomped into the kitchen. She was a slender woman, but the weight of her pregnancy added some power to her footfalls. "Girls, keep it down! This is no way for young ladies to behave." She glared at her little brother. "And put her down. Emily is too old for that kind of nonsense." She waited until Duo fulfilled her demand before promptly leaving in the same way she entered.

Once the coast was clear, cheeky little Coraline wondered, "Did you bring us any presents, Uncle Duo?"

Duo widened his eyes, but before anyone noticed, he cleverly answered, "Oh yeah, silly Santa keeps sending some of your presents to my address.”

"Silly Santa," Bethany mimicked softly.

Coraline's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she realized her mistake. While she and Emily were very much aware about the "truth" of Santa, Bethany and Breanne were still blissfully oblivious to the fact that Santa was no more than a story.

Duo gave Coraline a comforting smile and a light chuck under her chin with his index finger. His smile brightened when, in no time at all, she looked up with a cheerful sparkle in her eye and the corners of her mouths slowly curving upward.

Assured that a crisis had been averted, Duo suggested to the girls, "Why don't you go look how many presents Santa sent to my home for you?" They all nodded eagerly and rushed into the living room with equal excitement about the prospect of getting gifts, no matter who or where they came from.

Duo looked back and spotted his mother watching him, her gentle eyes still sparkled with undying youth. He walked up and hugged her to him tightly. She was tiny in comparison to him. He had stopped growing after puberty, but it seemed as if she began to shrink.

His mother was the only person in the family to accept him without judgment, and she did not hold any grudges against him for his "poor timing" seven years ago. She was also the only person he saw more than once a year at Christmas. He made it a point to fly back to his hometown as often as he could to spend time with her, even if it only meant sharing a dinner. More often than not, his father didn't know about it; if he did he would accuse his own wife of fifty years of betraying him and the Lord. Duo would never be able to thank her for her kindness, acceptance, and unconditional love – the one thing he jeopardized seven years ago, and wanted back more than anything else from his sisters and father.

When they parted she cupped his face lovingly. "You are so good with them."

He smiled.

"You would be such a lovely father."

"Mom," Duo warned as he straightened up; his face pulled away from her grasp.

"Don't patronize me," his mom said lightly. "I'm not saying you should marry a woman. I want you to marry whomever it is you love and then have a family of your own." She dismissed his disapproving frown with a brief wave of her hand. "Don't look at me like I'm talking crazy."

"When I find someone I love and if we decide to get married, we'll think about starting a family, okay?"

"Just don't take too long. I'm not getting any younger." She poured the batter with chocolate chips into a baking pan and remarked with a mischievous glance: "And neither are you."

Duo laughed, leaning back against the counter. "I still have time. And you have plenty of son-in-laws and grandchildren."

His mom snorted at the quip remark. "Don't make it sound like I'm collecting them." She placed the pan in the oven and expertly twisted the dials for the temperature and time. "I want you to be happy. I want your life to be complete. Only then will my life be complete."

Duo let out a sigh. "I'm trying. It's not easy."

"It's not easy for anyone, Duo. Gay or straight." She said as she wiped powdered sugar off her apron. She took it off and hung it on the handle of one of the kitchen cabinets. "Have you said hello to your father yet?"

"Not yet," Duo shook his head as he spoke. "Even after all these Christmases…it's still a challenge."

She gave an understanding nod, but noted slowly, "Not to make it more difficult for you, but…this year he could be especially trying."

Duo pushed off the counter. "Why? Did something happen?" His face blanched. "You didn't tell him-?"

"Duo, please," His mother said in a hushed tone, "of course I'm not going to tell him about your HIV-scare. Besides, that's all in the past – it was ages ago. No point in bringing that up again - _ever_." She pointed a shaky finger at him. The memory of that ordeal was still emotionally jarring for her. "No…your father was forced to retire last summer over a disagreement that got out of hand."

Duo's jaw dropped in disbelief. "What? That's bullshit! He's been the pastor for this community for over thirty years. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't tell you because it would only make you all the more angry with your father."

"Angry?" He shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand."

His mom eyed him carefully. "It's because of the nature of the disagreement," she elaborated, but remained purposefully vague.

Duo still didn't get it; he quirked an eyebrows and regarded her with a pressing stare. With a sigh, she surrendered. She cast a glance at the doorway to make sure the conversation would be private before she started to explain.

"Bishop Paulson is a more modern man and he wants to steer the church in a more modern direction. He wants the clergy to expressly welcome homosexuals to the congregation and never again judge or condemn them for their lifestyle. He wants tolerance and acceptance to be the key to every sermon. Your father did not support this decision." Duo's mom looked away, ashamed. "In the heat of the moment, he made some reprehensible allegations towards the bishop and other clergymen. He was immediately 'asked' to retire. Your father agreed because he would rather quit than…" She trailed off and absentmindedly started cleaning the kitchen counter.

Duo didn't need her to continue; he knew the reason. "He quit the job he loved, and abandoned the flock he has looked after and nurtured for over thirty years, because he would no longer be allowed to spew his ignorant hate anymore…his hate for me." His voice cracked; he clenched his jaw and his hand reached up to cover his mouth, ashamed of his pained grimace and trying to hide it.

"He doesn't hate you," His mom tried.

"Oh, don't, mom – just don't! He hates what I am, so he hates _who_ I am. He hates me!" He spat.

His mom shook her head. "This is why I didn't tell you before."

"Well, I actually would have appreciated more of a heads-up than this last-minute mind fuck!" Duo scoffed at the increasing difficulty of his situation. "So now I have to tiptoe around him because, on top of everything, he blames me for losing his congregation? And he has all this anger – of Biblical proportions! – bottled-up inside that he hasn't been able to vent since this summer?"

"He promised me he would behave," she assured him.

"He promises you that every year and every year it translates to him ignoring me and mumbling passive-aggressive comments over dinner."

"Just go say hello to him and give him a wide berth. Give him some time, he'll come around eventually."

"I've been giving him time for seven years now," Duo pointed out, but he shook his head, knowing he had no other choice but to stand it for as long as he could. He should be grateful that he was allowed to come home for Christmas again, at least. The holiday was his last remaining connection to his family and although he dreaded it every December, he didn't want to lose them forever. An awkward Christmas dinner was better than never seeing them again.

With defeat, Duo excused himself and went to look for his father. The search didn't take long – he found him seated in the leather lounge chair in the corner of the living room, watching his granddaughters marvel at the amount of presents under the tree. They were trying to spot the name-tag on the biggest box, all hoping it would have their name on it.

"Hey, Dad." He greeted and extended his hand. "Merry Christmas." He looked at his father with a question apparent in his eyes, the question that loomed over them for years:

_Will you ever forgive me and accept me for who I am?_

He never actually dared to voice the question aloud, still too afraid of the answer.

Several pairs of nervous eyes were watching them, all remembering the disastrous Christmas of '08.

The older man looked small, slumped in a chair that seemed too big for him all of sudden. He looked like a shadow of himself, stripped of the pride and dignity with which he carried himself, as the respected pastor of his community. "Merry Christmas," he mumbled, but he didn't shake his hand, or bother to lift his heavy eyes to acknowledge Duo's presence.

Duo let his hand drop then later stuffed it into the pocket of his pants because it felt so awkward dangling at his side after the all-too obvious rejection. “Did you fix the porch-swing?”

Finally, his dad looked up at him, albeit a deep-seated frown. “What?”

“The porch-swing. It was broken last year.”

“We threw it out and got a new one.”

Duo tried a smile. “You insisted on fixing it.”

“It was just a porch-swing. Besides, some things can’t be fixed,” he said dismissively and looked back at his granddaughters.

“Yeah.” He waited a heartbeat and then walked away.

To spare himself any further shame, Duo kept busy by helping his mother and sisters set the table and cook dinner. The son-in-laws helped themselves to Maxwell Senior’s whisky collection and argued about politics, taxes, modern art, and everything else Duo considered boring.

The boys were seated at a smaller table and drank from their glasses of apple juice as their fathers drank from their whisky: briefly sniffing the juice before taking small sips, and rolling the glass to “evenly distribute the flavor.” When the youngest got bored with this imitation game, he started undoing his tiny bowtie and suckling on the ends of it.

The girls helped – in their own way – with dinner and the table. Their grandmother corrected the placement of the cutlery and wineglasses without their knowing and later praised them for how perfectly they set the table. The kids were none the wiser.

The patriarch of the family remained in his chair, sulking. Duo could hardly be sympathetic. After all, he brought his misery upon himself. The bishop ought to be applauded for his forward thinking ways. Research showed that the church’s intolerance towards homosexuality played a huge role in why the younger generation didn’t attend church as often – or even at all – as their parents or grandparents did. Some went so far as to identify as Atheist or Agnostic because they couldn’t consolidate ‘love their neighbor’ with the archaic vilifying and discrimination of homosexuals. His father was an old-fashioned, stubborn fool for refusing this progress.

When the preparations were done, dinner was attractively spread on the long dining room table. Everyone took their seats and, with a wave of his hand, Father assigned Ada the responsibility to lead the family in prayer.

Worry flitted across Ada’s otherwise stern features at the questionable honor. Dutifully, she clasped her hands together and spoke, "Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," Everyone concluded, Duo as well. When he unfolded his hands and opened his eyes, he caught his father staring at him with unreadable eyes. Duo looked away, unsettled.

The guests started piling food onto their plates. For a moment everyone was preoccupied, waiting for someone to pass them the gravy float, the basket with bread, or the bowl of peas. The kids ate oven-baked fries and chicken nuggets.

Duo was happy to just listen to the chatter without the need to mingle. They were so comfortable around each other; after all, they saw each other more than once a year – Ada and Theodora even lived in the same street, separated by no more than three houses. All four of them were in-tune in a way that only sisters could be, he surmised. As the only boy, he had always felt like an outsider. At a young age, he discovered his sisters spoke a different language; they confused him with words like "taffeta," "taupe," "bodycon," "crimping," "ombre," and – one of the very first words that mystified him – tampon. Even words he did understand, or thought he did at least, had a different meaning, most notably "fine!"; it did not actually mean they were okay.

He had hoped that they would be understanding when he came out. He had even dared to believe that his confession could improve their relationship; that somehow, he would be welcomed into their world, and they would explain those words to him because they felt comfortable around him.

The reality did not reflect his hopes. They didn't want him to be part of their world; they wanted a sister-in-law. They wanted him to marry that cheerleader, then later that one cashier, or any of the girls from his college co-ed dorm. More importantly…they wanted Father to be happy again. The man had been miserable since his only son betrayed him, at least that was how he saw it. His parents had five children because they really wanted a boy. But the boy they finally got – their “blessing” -, wasn’t a “real boy” after all and his father resented him for that.

On Christmas Day in 2008, Duo decided to tell his family that he was gay. The anticipation of the moment was petrifying, but he stood firm on his decision. Continuing to live a lie made him feel like a fraud, and he didn't want to keep it a secret any longer. He wanted to tell them who he was, and he wanted to tell them who he loved. He wanted to show them the "real" Duo Maxwell and he foolishly believed that the truth could be welcomed with acceptance.

Father's reaction to the news scared everyone… and Duo wasn't allowed to come back until Christmas of 2011.

Maxwell Senior remained relatively calm at first. Duo had asked him and his mother to join him in the study. It was there he told them in private, and asked for permission to tell his sisters later. When it was time to say Grace before dinner, everyone folded their hands and bowed their heads. That was when his father had exploded:

"You do not have the right to pray in this house! I will not let you sully this family by addressing the Lord in our name! You betrayed Him! You betrayed us! You do not get to ask Him or anyone for their blessing or their love because you deserve none of it!"

Duo remembered those words the way he remembered the mealtime prayers, Easter prayers, Holy Communion prayers and Christmas prayers. Religion had always been a part of him and since then, his father's rejection was too.

Duo had ruined Christmas – that was how his sisters experienced it. And, according to them, he ruined their family too. Every Christmas since, he had to try to fix things – to fix their family – to be seen as their brother again and as father’s son. So far, every Christmas had ended in failure.

Maybe his father was right: some things just can't be fixed.

That one Christmas ruined every Christmas after it. That one Christmas might have ruined his entire life.

After dinner, Duo helped the ladies clean up and serve dessert – the cake the grandchildren had helped to bake – with ice cream. Finally, when the last child finished their dessert, it was time for the main event: the presents. The chaos of the deceivingly innocent ritual was a chore, but in the end, all of the kids were happy and playing with their new toys contentedly.

"You spoil them with those expensive presents," Teddy – Theodora – scolded.

Duo shrugged. "We gays have a lot of disposable income." That was a bold thing to say; he ignored her incredulous stare and did not give into the urge to apologize.

The two remote-control cars that he had given Daxton and Brennan buzzed around the living room, knocking into table legs and ankles. Daxton was followed everywhere by his little brother Archer, who had quickly lost interest in his big set of building blocks. The younger girls played with their dolls and Emily played with her PSP. The parents allowed their children to exhaust themselves with their new toys, knowing there would be no point trying to get them to bed until it was certain they would practically topple over from exhaustion. One by one the families left, carrying half-awake children to the cars. Only Duo, Poppy, and her husband Nathan remained, with no children to put to bed.

The atmosphere became much more amicable. Poppy was more comfortable and open-minded without her big sisters looming over her, and Nathan warmed up nicely after his third glass of whisky.

"I should probably head to my hotel," Duo announced when the hallway clock struck midnight.

His mother's attention piqued. "You're staying at a hotel? Honey, you can sleep here."

Duo shook his head at his mother's offer. She offered him every year he visited, without fail; but, until things changed between him and his father, he would continue to refuse.

"That's way too awkward. I don't want to overstay my welcome, if I haven't already." He got up and kissed his mother and sister goodbye. "See you next Christmas," He said wistfully, "and let me know if I need to bring an extra present in Santa's name," he added, referring to the previous conversation when their mother started pestering Poppy about trying for a baby.

"Maybe you should come to the summer barbeque," Poppy suggested.

"Maybe," he replied noncommittally.

"I'll talk to your father about it," his mother said carefully, recognizing, as much as Duo, that the final say was not theirs.

"Where is he? I suppose I should say goodbye." His plan to sneak out, to pretend to forget to say goodbye, was foiled by the mention of his father.

"I think he's outside for a smoke."

"Front porch?"

"Out back, I think."

Duo waved the company goodbye before stepping outside through the kitchen door. His father was seated on the back porch in the dark. There was no blue smoke wafting around him; he wasn't holding a cigar, but a basketball instead. Duo noticed that he wasn't wearing a coat.

"Aren't you freezing?" Duo asked.

"I'm not cold."

Duo cast a glance down the driveway that reached around the house and ended in front of the garage. The pavement had been cleared of snow and, still attached to the top of the garage door, was the basketball hoop his dad installed for him when he was nine years old. He had taught Duo how to play. He had many fond memories of playing basketball with his father, eventually besting him as he got taller.

"I got Daxton a basketball," Dad said out of nowhere, startling Duo a little. "But I guess he liked the car you gave him more, since he forgot all about it and left it here." He twirled the ball in his hands. "I was going to teach him to play. He's old enough now." This was more than Duo's dad had said to him in years. He hadn't really spoken more than a couple of words to Duo since his outburst in 2008, and an actual conversation was out of the question.

"You should," Duo said. "He'll love that. I did."

Maxwell Senior looked up at him, distrusting.

"Do you want to shoot some hoops?" He couldn't veil his vulnerable, hopeful tone. He didn’t think they could keep a civil conversation going, but he was taken by the naïve notion that a game of basketball could mend old wounds.

His dad's eyes narrowed. "You still like that sort of stuff?" he challenged.

Duo scoffed. He folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the bannister of the porch. "Dad, I'm a high school basketball coach. Yes, I still like that sort of stuff." He paused in thought for a moment and then decided to continue: "I know you think everything changed when I came out. But really, nothing has changed. I still play basketball, I still watch the Super Bowl, I still like dumb action movies…" he hesitated, but only briefly. "…I still go to church," he tried carefully. "I was always gay and it never affected anything. So why should it be different now, just because you know? I’m still the son you raised."

"You're not," his dad asserted and vehemently shook his head. "You sat right next to me on this bench and asked me how you should ask Hilde Schbeiker to the school dance. You liked girls. You were straight until you left for college."

He rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, Dad-"

"You were supposed to meet someone nice," his father continued, not allowing himself to be interrupted. "You were supposed to get married and have children, the way you were meant to. I raised you to be a real man. Now, you like boys!" He spat.

"I don't like _boys_ , Dad; I like men. And in spite of that, I _am_ a man. I can still meet someone nice, get married and have children, if I want to."

His dad's head snapped up to gawk at him with the abhorred stare that Duo knew all too well. Still he continued, undeterred.

"I'm not the son you want me to be, just like you are not the father I want you to be. We set each other up to fail with our own expectations of what the other should be. Either we accept each other as we are, or we quit this; we quit hurting each other."

Maxwell Senior looked down at the basketball and idly played with it.

"Think about it.," Duo pressed on. "Isn't our relationship worth fixing? Isn't it worth more to you than a porch-swing? I've been trying to fix us for seven years, but I can't do it without your help."

His hands froze.

"You abandoned your congregation because of hatred in your heart. These people called you 'Father.' You were trusted to care for them in the name of God, but you placed your own hatred before God's love. And now I stand before you, one of only five who still calls you 'Father.' What will you do? What is more important to you? Love or hate?" He gave his dad a chance to respond. When none came, he asked, "Is there anything left that you still have love for, or has hatred replaced all of it?"

"I love my wife. I love my daughters. I love my grandchildren." He looked up and, with fire burning defiantly in his eyes, he spat, "Who do you love? All your kind has is _lust_. That will never be enough to build a family and live a complete life."

Duo straightened up and replied calmly, "I know love. I've loved a man, genuinely loved him." He paused briefly to push back the powerful memory. "But not more than I love you." He released a sigh. "I lost that person because I thought choosing you over him would mean something to you. I've sacrificed everything to make things right between us; I put my life on hold so as not to offend you, to not add insult to injury. I've had relationships fail because I wouldn't introduce them to my parents and I could never spend Christmas with them because I had to be here. And all of it has been for nothing." He threw his arms up and snorted bitterly. "Is anything ever going to make a difference, Dad?"

His father ignored him and kept staring at the basketball.

" _Dad_!" He demanded.

The old man glared at him. "Nothing changes until you change."

His face hardened. "I'm gay. I can't that change, Dad. Only you can change."

"I _won't_ ," was the definitive reply.

Duo waited a couple of heartbeats but he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Did he really expect his father to take back those words? To have a change of heart and apologize. Did he really believe that his dad would do in a matter of minutes what he couldn't even do in seven years?

He spun around and stepped off the porch into the snow that crunched softly underneath his feet. As he rounded the corner, a part of him still clung to foolish hope that his father would call after him; he didn't. All he heard was the crunching snow and the rustle of his own clothes as he took one step after another.

It was over. After seven years, he had his answer. It was not the answer he was hoping for, but he had no choice but to accept it.

He wasn't distraught. In a way, he wished he did feel the pain of loss; but with everything said and done, he realized he had lost his dad years ago. More than anything, he was relieved. Relieved that they finally finished the fight that started seven Christmases ago. Relieved that he was now mature and composed enough to say the things he needed his father to hear. A weight was lifted from his shoulders. Maybe next year, he could actually have fun on Christmas: spend it with friends, or someone special.

Duo worried for his mother. For seven years, she was caught in the middle of it all. He knew this result would be most difficult on her and hard to accept. But, even so, he had no doubt that she would continue to love him – accept him – no matter what. He could have a private ‘Christmas’ celebration with her, away from the family gathering, whenever they wanted; July if need be. The family may see his absence during the Holidays as a blessing. They no longer would have to endure the tense energy his presence brought to the house; they could finally get back to the unburdened, festive Christmas celebration they enjoyed before his actions ruined it all. And who knows? Maybe one day, his sisters will get over their remaining resentment towards him so that the fragile bonds they share can finally have a chance to mend. He may never get back the love of his father – and he was ready to accept that –, but he would not give up the rest of his family, not yet.

As he approached his rental car, parked at the end of the driveway, Duo fished his keys out of his pocket. The metal jingled crisply in the quiet neighborhood.

"Duo?" A smooth voice called out. Duo stopped dead in his tracks. His heart rate quickened and his chest blossomed with a nervous heat. With jerky movements he twisted his body around and saw a figure dressed in black walking down the path of the neighboring house, heading directly toward him.

"Heero." Duo's lips twitched into a helpless smile as he studied the person approaching him. A long, black coat on top of black slacks hid his slender frame. His midnight-blue eyes put the clear, winter sky and stars to shame; his gaze made him shiver, but his golden skin brought to mind thoughts of sweltering heat and summer.

Heero stopped just short of stepping into Duo's personal space and seemed to have forced himself to a halt before moving in for an impromptu embrace. He tucked a lock of brown hair behind his ear, but the wind pulled it free and playfully tousled it along with the rest.

"Hi," he breathed, the air a white puff.

"Hi." Duo couldn't stop smiling. "I was wondering if you would be home for Christmas this year."

"Yeah." Heero tucked his hair behind his ear again. "I always offer to take the Christmas shift and come home for Thanksgiving instead. But my parents celebrated their thirtieth anniversary last Tuesday, so since I was flying out here anyway, I signed up for the Thanksgiving shift this year instead." He shrugged.

Duo shook his head and chuckled at himself when he realized he had been staring at his lips.

Heero blinked at him. "What?"

"Nothing…it's just…so weird and…wonderful to see you." His struggle with words embarrassed him.

"You too. It's been-"

"Seven years."

"Seven years…yeah." Heeero bit his bottom lip. After hesitating, he asked tentatively, "Do you want to go get some-"

"Coffee?"

Heero smiled at his hopeful tone. "Yeah."

"Do you have a car?" Heero shook his head at the question. Duo unlocked his rental and motioned towards the passenger side. "Get in. I'll find us a place."

After fifteen minutes of driving around, they ended up at a small diner that was still open. As soon as they picked a booth, they were served coffee with a gruff Christmas greeting from a stocky waitress. Duo had been shamelessly staring when Heero shook off his coat and revealed a tight-fitting, black turtleneck sweater. The man looked even better than Duo remembered him, and his occasional fantasies hadn't done his matured body any justice either. When he last laid eyes – more than just eyes – on Heero, he was 18 years old, still a boy. He had grown up well. He maintained the perfect amount of his previous, boyish appeal in his big, bright eyes, the delicateness of his nose and mouth, the playfulness of his hair, his slender hands and his small waist. But his voice had deepened pleasantly, he muscular thighs and straight, strong shoulders, the rolled-up sleeves of his turtleneck revealed wiry arms, and the fabric stretched taut across his defined chest.

He watched Heero take his first sip of coffee and when Heero looked right back, he exuded a confidence he used to lack. Duo was spellbound.

"I ran into your mom and dad last Christmas when I came home," he started. "I heard you were living in Philadelphia and working at some fancy hotel."

Heero nodded in response. "The Rittenhouse. I work at the Library Bar."

"I thought you were going to become a doctor." Duo hoped his tone didn't imply judgment.

Heero laughed softly. "That's the thing about taking a bartending job to pay your way through medical school. You kind of realize bartending is really fun." More seriously, he went on, "I wasn't sure anymore if I really wanted to become a doctor that badly. When I used to say that, I didn't really know what that would cost me and how hard it would be. I just did it because everyone told me I was smart enough. I didn't have time for a life: for hobbies, for friends, for boyfriends," He cast a mischievous look across the table. "I'm thinking about going to nursing school. I have a head start with the training I've already had, but…" He waved his hand dismissively. "What about you? My mom said you're a teacher."

"Uhm, not really. I'm a basketball coach at a Chicago high school and I volunteer at the Youth center."

"Wow." He beamed a smile.

"What?"

"That's so like you. You haven't changed at all."

"Thanks." He grimaced. "If it's a compliment."

"Oh, it's a compliment." He hid his grin behind his cup of coffee.

Duo ran his hand through his hair. He wondered if it was best to ignore the past – the past they had together, and the past they spent apart – but that would be disingenuous. "I should have returned your calls."

Heero put his coffee down and avoided eye-contact. His finger toyed with the ear of the cup. "Yes. You should have."

"I got really fucked up that Christmas."

Heero nodded. "My mom told me a little about it. What she heard from your mother." He looked up at Duo. "I could have helped you."

"I know. But I didn't want help. I just wanted to be angry and wallow in self-pity."

"Did you ever make things right with your father?"

"No." Duo sighed. "But it's over now. I've spent seven Christmases trying to make it right with him…when I should have tried to make things right with someone else." He looked at Heero meaningfully.

An earnest smile spread across Heero's lips. "Well, this Christmas you may have that chance."

Duo stared. After his talk with his father, he thought this year would be the worst Christmas ever – even worse than '08 – but perhaps he needed his father's rejection to be resolute before he could move on. And almost instantly he was given that chance. It was because of moments like this that Duo still believed in God.

"I loved you so much," Duo blurted out. "All I ever wanted was for you to never get hurt…and of course, I end up being the jackass who hurt you." He chuckled bitterly and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I regret so many things. I should have told you how I felt. I should have called. I should have visited you more often. I should have invited you to come see me at college. I should-" After a moment of hesitation he finished with, "I should have made love to you."

The waitress shot him a look as she walked by at that exact moment; he didn't care.

Heero was too stunned into silence to stop Duo's rambling.

"You wanted me to be your first and I was just fucking scared shitless of that responsibility. You were so special to me, I wanted your first time to be special in a way you deserved. But I waited too long. I let the moment slip away. I let you slip away." He closed his hands around the warm cup in front of him and took a moment to organize his thoughts and regain his composure. "Who was your first?"

"Duo…" Heero shook his head.

"Please, tell me some other guy didn't fuck up like I did."

Heero turned his head to look outside but ended up looking at his own reflection in the black window. "It was just some guy. In the back of his car. I didn't even tell him I was a virgin – I was afraid he would want to wait too long…like you did." He looked at him poignantly.

Duo sighed. His hands tightened around the cup.

Heero tried to make light of it. "I mean, I was nearly 20 at that point and you know I was impatient for it ever since I was 16, and you dry-humping me for two years didn't exactly 'curb my enthusiasm.' I was fucking horny." He laughed.

Duo snickered. "You were very horny." He blushed at the memories. Heero had made it clear to him many times that he had been ready; they pretty much tried everything except anal sex. In the heat of the moment, Heero would _beg_ him to fuck him. He was so curious and so eager. Duo's only sexual encounters before then were with girls, and he had never taken anyone's virginity. He wanted to have sex with Heero so badly that he nearly lost control several times, but what always stopped him was the pressure he had put on himself. Whenever they were close, his mind started racing:

_What if I hurt him? What if he doesn't like it? What if I'm not good at it? – girls fake orgasms after all! – What if we break up and he regrets going 'all the way' with me?_

"What about you? Who did you lose your 'gay virginity' to?" Heero shot back with a grin.

"I guess about a year later, with a guy at college. An exchange student from China."

The other quirked an eyebrow. "Are you into Asians?"

Duo shrugged. "Maybe." He didn't really think he had a type, but it might not have been a coincidence that, after Heero, the first guy he was with was a young student from China. He had a similar, lithe frame, golden skin, slanted eyes, anime-hair and an exotic name. Since then, he had been with all kinds of guys, although he never felt for them what he felt for Heero. Sometimes his promiscuity shamed him, but at least he knew he had gotten 'good at it.'

"So, are you really a total bottom? You were pretty convinced of it back then; you wanted to get fucked so badly." Duo let his voice drop to a purr to tease him.

Heero didn't skip a beat. "I've topped a couple of times, but…" he grinned, "that's not what I prefer."

Duo shifted in his seat, adjusting his position to give himself some relief as his body started to respond favorably to the teasing.

Heero's lips curled knowingly and he made a show of moving in his own seat: uncrossing his legs and sitting back. When their feet touched – innocently – under the table, it was Duo's hands that warmed the coffee, not the other way around.

"Are you-" He cleared his throat, "Are you seeing anyone?"

His answer was a bemused snort. "Am I not being blunt enough?"

Duo's cheekbones and ears went red – he laughed. The question was unnecessary. Heero wouldn't be seductively toying with him if he was already committed to someone else.

"I expected you to be angry with me," Duo quietly admitted. "That you would never want to see me again. Not…-" He moved his foot so their calves lined up and slowly moved his heel up and down to rub their legs together.

"I know that you never intended to hurt my feelings. You were hurt yourself. It must have been awful for you." Heero dropped his head. "And in hindsight, you were right. I was too young, too naïve, and we were both too self-absorbed to make a long-distance relationship work. By the time we started dating, we only ever saw each other over the summer and on holidays. Even if things hadn't fallen apart that second Christmas, it wouldn't have worked."

"I didn't think you'd be so pessimistic about us."

"I wasn't back then. I thought we were going to be together forever," He smiled shyly. "But I've grown up." After a moment of thought, he corrected, "I prefer realistic as opposed to pessimistic."

"Fair enough." Duo didn't stop moving his foot.

"So… how was Christmas for you this year?" Heero tried to divert, taking a casual sip from his lukewarm coffee.

"It's getting better." Duo watched as Heero struggled to hide his flattered grin; it made him smile. "Yours?"

"It was nice not working for a change. It was nice," he concluded vaguely.

"Your parents are still okay with it? They've never tried to change you, or…?" Heero revealed his sexual preference to his parents when he was 18 years old, a few months before Duo mustered up the courage to break the news to his own family. He had been emboldened by the Yuy's positive response to their son's homosexuality; in hindsight, he should've known that his family was nowhere near as open-minded as the Yuy's.

Guilt flitted across Heero's features as he remembered encouraging Duo to come out to his own parents, not realizing how badly that would backfire. "It's not really an issue. They're fine with it. It only ever comes up when my mom tries to set me up with someone."

Duo smiled, hiding his envy. "Did you ever tell them about us?"

The other shook his head. "I didn't want to burden my mom with that secret. It would get in the way of her friendship with Phillipa. She probably would've accidentally ended up telling her or your dad, and I knew the last thing you needed was more fuel to that fire. I didn't want my mom to end up feeling guilty." He pushed the half-empty cup of coffee aside – it had gone cold. "It wasn't easy keeping you a secret. I've never stopped thinking about you. I would have liked to have been able to talk to her about you. I've talked to her about every other guy I've been with."

"I'm sorry..."

"I didn't mean it as an attack."

"I know. I'm still sorry." Duo moved the tip of his finger along the rim of the cup while chewing on the inside of his cheek. "So you talked to her about other guys?"

"I even introduced one or two to my parents."

Duo was struck with envy of a different kind. He shifted in his seat again, slouching so his leg could reach further under the table and their knees met. "Anything serious?"

"I introduced them to my parents. That's pretty serious to me," Heero quipped in response.

"Mmhm..." He took a sip from his coffee – forgetting it had gone cold – and his face scrunched up his lips made contact with the liquid. "This is cold," he stated the obvious. "Is yours cold too? Should I order us two more coffees?"

Heero leaned forward, his legs drew away, out of Duo's reach, but he extended his arm over the table and covered Duo's hand with his. "Duo, how long do you want us to keep talking before we either go back to your hotel room or mine?"

Duo's eyes widened; he knew his hand would leave a wet mark on the table as his palms went sweaty in response to Heero's blunt remark. "I didn't think we should…right away. I didn't know…I thought maybe we should wait." His lips tightened at his own ineloquence.

"Duo, I've been waiting to have sex with you since I was 16 years old. I think you've kept me waiting long enough, don't you agree?" Heero grinned at him. "If you don't want to-"

He latched onto Heero's hand as he felt it retreat. "I want to," he admitted, no point trying to hide it.

"My hotel has 24/7 room service and a bathroom with a Jacuzzi," Heero suggested.

"My hotel is four minutes away from here," Duo offered in return.

Heero jumped up. "Let's go to your hotel then."

Duo nodded dumbly in agreement. He blindly reached into his wallet to dig out a crumpled-up bill that he planted on the table. He then eagerly following Heero out the diner. He had no idea how much money he had left – it might have been way too much for the two coffees they had – but since neither of them were tackled to the ground as they headed out the door, at least he knew he hadn't paid too little.

Duo drove them back to the hotel in his rental. The ride was eerily quiet; luckily, it didn't last long. With the way he floored the gas pedal in anticipation, they arrived at the underground parking garage in less than three minutes.

"I still have to check-in," he announced while he got his overnight bag from the trunk. Together they climbed the stairs up to the lobby.

On the way up, Heero asked, "Is there a bar?"

Duo searched his memory. "According to the website, yeah."

"I'll get us a bottle of something to bring up to the room." Heero smirked before parting ways with him.

Duo stopped and watched him go. His footfalls were soundless on the stone lobby floor; he had such an elegant, controlled walk. His shoulders rocked lightly with his steps. His long black coat moved behind him in fluid ripples of fabric. How could someone simply walking away be so utterly mesmerizing? He shook his head at himself and approached the reception desk.

"Hi. I'm Duo Maxwell, I made a reservation."

As the clerk checked the computer system, he leaned in and tried, "I don't suppose you have an upgrade available? I booked a really simple room, but I'm having an unexpected guest over…"

She looked up from the computer and diligently informed him, "You booked a room with a double bed. Would you like to change to a room with twin beds for you and your guest?"

He chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, I was hoping for something along the lines of king-size and a balcony with a view?"

Her professional façade cracked to reveal a smile. "I'll check for you, sir." She started typing away.

Duo turned, leaning his elbow on the counter, and studied the modest lobby. He spotted a corridor flanked by potted plants, with a sign above that read "BAR" – he knew where Heero ran off to. When he caught a reflection of himself in the wall-sized mirror across the open, sparsely-decorated space, he straightened up and checked his braid to make sure it was still presentable. Sometimes bits of hair had the habit of sticking out and they would make his long hair look considerably less attractive.

"Sir?"

"Hm. Yes?" He spun around again to face the clerk.

"I have one room available with a king-sized bed. Unfortunately it is on the second floor and doesn't have much of a view."

"Does it have nice curtains?"

She let out a soft laugh. "We have very nice curtains, sir."

"Then I'll take it."

"It is forty dollars more, for the night," She informed him. "Single-night visitors are asked to pay upfront."

"That's fine." He handed over his credit card and waited for her to give it back along with the keycard for the room. From the corner of his eye he saw a figure dressed in black approach him. He enjoyed watching Heero walk towards him even more than watching him walk away. His hips had a nice sway to them. He had his coat draped over his arm. In his free hand he held a bottle of wine by the neck and two wineglasses by the stem.

"What took you so long?" Duo wondered. When Heero came to stand next to him he slipped his arm around his waist. It was so easy and comfortable, even though it had been seven years.

Heero quipped, "I was flirting with the bartender."

When Duo accepted the keycard and his credit card from the clerk, he noticed her grin and flushed cheeks. Heero was not the guest she was expecting.

"Happy holidays and goodnight," She said.

"You too." It was rude of him, but he could hardly be bothered with pleasantries at that moment.

He guided Heero up to the room, his hand never leaving the small of his back. Once inside, he took his coat and hooked it on a hanger behind the door, dropped his bag in the corner, and took the bottle of wine and glasses. He set them on the desk and prepared to open the bottle, but a hand touched his arm and squeezed the muscle firmly but nicely.

"The wine is for after," Heero said, his voice low. "Like I said, you've kept me waiting long enough." Standing in front of the taller man he slipped his hands along Duo's chest into his dinner jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. His hands stroked all the way down his arms, smoothing over the wrinkles of his button-up shirt.

When the jacket fell to the floor, Duo reached up a hand to pull Heero closer to him, but the Japanese man took the hand and guided it back to his side.

"I've known what I wanted since I was a teenager," Heero explained in a firm, yet suggestive, tone. "Let _me_ make it happen this time. Finally."

Duo nodded hurriedly. He stood there, motionless, except for the heaving of his chest as the mere anticipation caused his breathing to become labored.

Heero took a small step towards him, not enough to fully close the distance between them, but enough to tantalize Duo. The taller man could feel warm breaths against his throat, swooping up under his chin and down into his shirt – thanks to the undone buttons at the top. He bit back a moan when Heero's hands returned. He placed them on Duo's chest – he must've been able to feel his wild heartbeat. Before long, he moved both hands down his torso. The touch became increasingly lighter as fingers trailed down until the electrifying touch disappeared completely after he flicked the belt buckle with his index finger.

A pointed nose touched underneath Duo's chin as Heero brought his lips close to his Adam's apple; he clenched his fists at his sides, hoping he would kiss him, but all he got was the caress of a shuddering exhale.

Then there were the hands again; they started at his belt this time. Fingers toyed with the buckle and eventually undid it – a wordless promise. They pinched the fabric of his shirt and pulled it out of his slacks. With the shirt freed, Heero slid his hands underneath and Duo groaned when Heero traced the shape of his abs and rubbed his ticklish sides.

Then they disappeared again.

Duo let out a breathy chuckle. "Heero Yuy, you've become a tease."

"I learned from the best," the accused shot back smugly.

"Ah, so this is revenge?"

"Does it feel like revenge?" was the sweet reply. The tip of the nose moved down from his chin and bumped the swell of his Adam's apple that bobbed up and down as Duo swallowed the lump in his throat. A kiss landed on the hollow of his collar bone.

"No," he ground out. "Feels good." He could not deny he was extremely aroused; Heero had to inch his own hips back to avoid stimulating the obvious erection that tented Duo's black slacks. "Nnn…" He inhaled deeply when Heero popped a button of his shirt.

"You said you should have made love to me when we were younger." He undid another button. "When should you have done it?"

It took Duo a little while to form an answer. More buttons being undone were quite the distraction. "That second summer. When we went house-sitting." He beamed at the memories. "We had the place all to ourselves. I could have made you _scream_." He figured he had given a good answer when Heero rewarded him by opening the sides of his shirt and placing a lingering kiss on his breastbone.

But then the younger one objected. "You still would have kept me waiting that long?"

"One and a half years is better than nine," he supplied.

"Still too long."

"Alright." He accepted the challenge and searched further through the distant memories of their relationship, which started when Heero was 16 and he was 20, and ended nearly exactly two years later – shortly after Christmas – when Duo never returned his calls after the disastrous "coming out" event. Most memories – the last one excluded – were fond memories. They were childhood friends before they pursued a relationship.

Duo had gone off to college and only came back for summers and major holidays. Living in the dorms in a new city, far removed from the rules and supervision of his parents, Duo discovered he was attracted to men. However, he never acted on his attraction; he never felt the need to. His desire never got "bad" enough that he couldn't control himself. Not until he returned home for Christmas in 2006, and saw Heero again for the first time in a year. Heero spent that summer in Japan with family from his mother's side.

Compared to the last time saw his neighbor and childhood friend, Heero had definitely changed. When Duo looked at him before, he saw a skinny, awkward, teenaged boy: his eyes too big for his face; his head too big for his body; his limbs too long; his clothes too large. Being four years older than Heero, he saw him as the baby brother he never had.

When he came home a week before Christmas, went over to the Yuy house to surprise his childhood friend; Heero's mom let him go up to his room. He walked in on Heero getting dressed and quickly realized that he was not his "baby brother" anymore. Hormones had done a marvelous job. Heero had gotten taller and finally started to build muscle on his frame – a benefit from being on the high school Track & Field team since Freshman year. His braces had come out that October; he always had an endearing smile.

When Duo walked in on him half naked, Heero smiled at him and hugged him before thinking to cover himself up. It was immediately apparent to Duo that his control would not last long.

"Christmas, '06," He said.

Heero let out a laugh and shook his head. "We weren't even dating then. It would have been a meaningless fuck.” He reiterated, “I asked you when you should have first _made love_ to me."

"Would you have let me?"

"Hm?"

"Would you have let me fuck you? That soon?"

"Yes," he hissed in response. He placed his mouth over a nipple and let his tongue flick out.

"Ah!"

Mercifully, Heero rid him of his shirt and kissed his way across his chest to treat the other nipple. His hands did not remain idle; they thumbed the shape of his muscles that tensed underneath the skin, and counted the bumps of Duo's spine while playing with his braid. Then they moved back to the front and ripped the belt out of the loops of Duo's pants. Heero draped the leather over his own neck.

Duo quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I'm going to spank you with this if you get it wrong," Heero explained coolly. He proceeded to slowly unbutton the slacks and lower the zipper.

Now that piqued Duo's wicked curiosity. "It's a test now?"

"Mmhm, and you only get one more try."

"One more? And if I get it wrong, I get spanked?" Duo's eyes widened at the idea. Heero never answered and his imagination was given free rein. He wasn't exactly sure if he was opposed to the idea of getting spanked, but at the same time he didn't want to get the question wrong. Exploring the erotic benefits of a spanking would have to wait.

Ignoring the rules previously set, Duo reached out a hand and gently took hold of Heero's chin, to make him look at him. He spoke softly with confidence, "I should have made love to you the Fourth of July weekend of '07…when you first asked me to."

Heero stilled and gazed into his eyes. His hand moved up and pulled the belt from his neck; he let the leather slip smoothly from his fingers – the buckle thudded on the carpet floor. "I guess I won't be needing that," he said, confirming that he had given the answer he was looking for.

"Maybe later?" Duo suggested with a wink.

Heero's lips curled into a smile. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing his body flush against Duo's, sandwiching their matching arousals between them. His arms snaked around his neck and when he pushed up on his toes to close the distance between their mouths, his torso rubbed against Duo's skin. He could feel the softness of the fabric and the warmth of the body underneath.

Their lips merged tenderly, to start with. Duo reached his arms around his former partner and placed one hand on the back of his neck while the other pressed against the small of his back. He pressed his hips and mouth against Heero's more powerfully. Their pelvises rocked together with evident need and their kiss deepened; tongues met between them as they took turns exploring the other's mouth. They both moaned.

Duo lowered his hand to Heero's ass, grabbing a round, muscular cheek first before shifting to the center of his behind and pressing fingers into the cleft. "Shit," he cursed against Heero's lips as realization and resentment hit him at once. "I don't have a condom." To see him again, after all these years, and having to settle for a dry-hump or a tug-of-war was a pain – it was not at all what either of them were anxiously looking forward to.

"Left pocket," Heero murmured and then captured his mouth again.

Duo's hand jumped over to the left pocket of Heero's pants and retrieved a strip of three condoms. He brought his hand up and interrupted the kiss to look at the ruby red foils over Heero's shoulder. "You brought condoms to your family Christmas dinner?"

Heero let out a hearty laugh. "I got them from the bartender downstairs."

 _So that's what took so long…_ Duo grinned at him. "I didn't know this," he shook the strip, "was a service bartenders provided."

"We have a responsibility – a code." Heero smirked in response. "We get you a drink. We get you a cab. And, when you need it, we provide free therapy and the means for safe sex."

"Really?"

"If you're lucky."

"People come up to you at your bar and ask for condoms a lot?"

"I work at the Rittenhouse, Duo. My guests are more likely to inquire about Viagra."

After a laugh Duo kissed away his cheeky grin and grabbed his ass with both hands, lifting him up. Heero wrapped his arms around Duo's neck and legs around Duo's waist, and let himself be carried to the king-sized bed. The American placed him on the mattress and tossed the condoms to the left for later. Standing at the edge of the bed, he leaned over him. He pushed the black turtleneck up an inch or two and kissed his exposed stomach, just above the hem of his pants. Slim fingers threaded through his hair and Heero spread his thighs wantonly. One of Duo's hands ghosted over the front of Heero's pants, giving a light squeeze to the hard bulge. He mapped the way the shaft curved under the two layers of fabric and the swell of the scrotum at the base, before moving further down between his legs. He pushed more firmly, massaging the perineum and the sensitive skin surrounding his opening through his pants and underwear. Immediately, Heero started to grind his hips. Duo pushed the hem of the turtleneck sweater up further with his nose and kissed his way up the abdomen - the way he remembered doing years ago, when they were horny kids, rutting against each other. He urged Heero to scoot further up the bed and crawled on top of him. The sweater was pushed up to his collarbone and Duo pinched the nipples while he leaned in for another passionate kiss. Heero thrust his pelvis up from the mattress, pressing his groin against him. They moaned in unison.

He paused to strip Heero of his sweater and got rid of both their shoes, socks and pants before mounting him again. He purposefully kept their underwear on to keep things from spiraling out of control too fast. He made a mistake not taking their relationship all the way when he had the chance seven – even eight – years ago. The only benefit to be had was that now, they were both older; they could make it last, they could fully enjoy each other. They knew their own bodies, their likes and dislikes. They didn't know each other very well anymore, but it was exciting to get reacquainted. Duo didn't want it to be over before he knew Heero's body as well as he knew his own.

The American explored every inch of golden skin with his fingers. Whenever they both needed some air, he redirected his lips to worship the shells of Heero's ears, his sharp jawline, his elegantly craned neck, and occasionally dipping his head further down to treat his erect nipples.

Heero's hands busied themselves caressing Duo's face and broad chest, while pushing his hips up in rhythm with Duo's thrusts. He laughed breathily. "It's like we're back in my bedroom, trying to get each other off by dry-humping before my mom calls us downstairs for dinner."

"We're not in a hurry this time." To emphasize his point, Duo kissed him leisurely.

He stalled for as long as he could handle. There was a fine line between building anticipation and intensifying the arousal, and becoming frustrating and off-putting. When he estimated he was a little short of crossing that line, he decided the foreplay had lasted long enough and moved down Heero's body to mouth his erection through the fabric of his briefs.

"Ahh…! Yeah…" Heero whimpered at the stimulation.

Deft fingers peeled away the underwear; he dragged the fabric down Heero's legs and then tossed the garment into oblivion. Heero's erection was thick, with a reddened crown and a pearl of precome at the tip. He stared at it. He remembered it. He remembered what it felt like in his hand. He remembered what it felt like in his mouth. He licked up the length of it and placed a kiss on the head, almost reverently. With his wet, hot tongue, he gave the tip a few heavy pets. The cock pulsed and twitched; Heero's abdominal muscles tightened and his thighs tensed up – he was dangerously close to climaxing. Duo licked his arousal once more before kissing his way back up and reconnecting their mouths.

The younger man mewled pathetically as his need was denied.

"We didn't wait seven years to end up blowing our load sucking each other off after all," Duo explained between kisses.

Heero nodded in agreement and his right hand blindly searched the bed for the condoms and handed them to Duo as soon as they were found.

Duo tore off one packet and ripped it open. He sat back on his haunches between Heero's spread legs, aware that the other was watching his every move. He placed the protective latex on the tip of his manhood and rolled it down the shaft. The condoms weren't lubricated and they didn't have any at hand – the bartender had failed to provide them that – so he spat into his hand a couple of times and rubbed it up and down his length and onto Heero's entrance. "Do you want me to stretch you first?"

Heero shook his head. "No. I want to be tight for you."

Duo's face and neck flushed red. Although he wasn't disappointed with that admission, he didn't want Heero to feel self-conscious about not being a virgin anymore. "You'll feel so good, no matter what," he reassured, his words blending together and coming out with a nasal tone, like a drawn-out moan. "I want to make you feel good."

"I like it better without stretching."

The words drove him wild and subsequently impatient. He spat onto his dick once more to make it as slick as he could without proper lubrication. Then he hooked his hands under Heero's knees and pushed his legs up and apart. He leaned over him. His braid snaked over his shoulder and the end fell onto the mattress next to Heero's head. The younger man's own hair was fanned out around him and stuck to his forehead and the nape of his neck with sweat. Duo angled his hips to position himself at Heero's entrance.

Then Heero quickly informed, "If I cry, don't worry about it."

Duo frowned at him. "What?"

He looked up with vulnerable, embarrassed eyes. "I cry sometimes, during sex."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He bit down on his bottom lip, mortified at his confession.

Duo smiled at him reassuringly. "It's okay if you cry," he said with lighthearted gentleness. "I don't want you to feel like you have to hold anything back. Just let out whatever you want, whatever feels good."

Heero nodded.

"Promise me you'll let me know if I'm hurting you."

The Japanese man nodded again.

Duo encircled his erection with his fist, just behind the crown, steadying it as he pushed his hips forward. Without stretching him first, Heero was tight and it didn't help that all these years of waiting had him a little tense.

The opening resisted, even as Duo applied more pressure. "Relax, baby," he whispered. The nickname came easily to him. When they were dating he used to call him that all the time, when they were alone, of course.

Heero released a pleasant sigh at being called "baby." He cupped Duo's face with his hands and pulled him down for a kiss.

Duo kept applying steady pressure and waited patiently for Heero to relax. He kissed him slowly as a distraction. With the thumb of his free hand he rubbed circles on the inside of Heero's thigh to soothe him, purposefully not touching his arousal, knowing that kind of direct stimulation would only make his muscles clench up.

"I want to be inside you, baby," he said in-between kisses, his voice barely a whisper. "I want to be so deep inside you…" He grabbed Heero's calves with both hands, spreading his legs wider and pushed his knees closer to his chest, opening him up more. Duo took hold of his own erection again, aiming the head and he leaned his weight forward, as slowly and controlled as he could muster.

Heero released a deep breath he had been holding and was mercifully able to relax. The channel stretched to accommodate Duo and he slipped inside with a single, smooth thrust, accompanied by their moans.

Settled inside of his lover – finally _his lover_ – Duo captured Heero's mouth for another kiss, giving them both time to enjoy the union they had waited for, for so long. The American forced aside all gnawing feelings of regret and guilt and lost himself to the moment. He fell into a white hot abyss. But he wasn't afraid of falling, not with Heero there.

Heero clenched his muscles around him, really feeling Duo's thickness and length. "Ohh… yeah…" He interrupted the kiss and nuzzled his nose into the crook of Duo's neck.

The sheath that enveloped him gripped needily, rippling as muscles tensed and relaxed. Duo knew he was ready, but still he asked, just to be sure.

"Yes. Fuck me," was Heero's answer, his voice thick.

Duo reared his head up so he could stare into Heero's eyes. With their gazes locked, he started to move. His lover struggled to keep his eyes open as the pleasure caused by the friction overwhelmed them both, but he managed. Duo was completely focused on Heero's clouded eyes and his sultry expressions. His hips moved with a confidence and skill that he would have lacked seven years ago. He knew his cock was stroking the prostrate just right with every thrust; after losing some of its hardness during the initial penetration, Heero's manhood fully firmed-up again and leaked precome onto his tightened abdomen. Without taking his eyes off his lover's face, he wrapped his fingers around the base of the weeping erection and pumped it in time with his thrusts. He avoided stimulating the more sensitive head; he didn't want it to be over too soon.

In reaction to the intimate touch, the passage tightened more around the intruding member, intensifying the gratification for both of them.

Duo moaned and smiled at him. He whispered, "Feel good, baby?"

"Obviously." Heero let out a breathy chuckle.

Duo's smile brightened. "You want it harder?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes."

He complied without delay. Their moans got louder. The bed moved with the force of it. "The neighbors are going to hate us," he remarked quietly with a grin.

"Fuck the neighbors!"

Duo laughed at the exclamation.

With a feral snarl Heero pushed up and flipped them over so Duo's back was on the mattress while he straddled his hips.

The American groaned loudly. He certainly wasn't going to object.

Heero rolled his hips slowly for a moment, then reached back and grabbed Duo's strong thighs with both hands for purchase and rode him.

Duo appreciated Heero's beauty with lustful eyes and greedy hands. His hands stroked and squeezed his sides, his hips and his legs. The golden skin was wet and slick with sweat, much like his own. The abdomen was a play of highlights and shadows that moved with the contractions of the muscles as Heero moved himself up and down on Duo's cock.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to last much longer, Duo sat up. He cupped Heero's face in his hands tenderly and kissed him in kind. Heero stilled on his lap, focusing on returning the kiss. The younger man wrapped his arms around Duo's shoulders; Duo shifted his hands down to Heero's hips and pressed his fingers into the flesh as he took hold of him and started working him up and down again.

"I was so stupid back then," He growled, more at himself than at Heero.

"Yes! Yes, you were!" Heero agreed without malice in his tone of voice.

Duo grabbed his hair by the nape of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. With their mouths connected, he laid down on his back, pulling Heero with him. He bent his legs at the knees and dug his heels into the mattress for leverage; with a snap of his hips, he thrust up into Heero harder and deeper. He took Heero's neglected erection into his hand again so he could finish them both off.

"I'm gonna come…!" his lover warned, twisting his fingers into the sheets on either side of Duo's head.

Duo licked the shell of Heero's ear and huskily whispered, "Come for me, baby, and take me with you. Get nice and tight for me...!"

Heero dipped his head, tucking it underneath Duo's chin. Duo listened to the shrill cry and the sound of fabric tearing right by his ears.

Reaching the peak of his climax, Heero's body clenched and relaxed rhythmically around him, bringing him over the edge and milking him. He shouted some obscenities that the neighbors would most certainly overhear and gripped his lover's hips hard enough to leave bruises. He flipped them over again and made a few more deep thrusts with the last of his virility, engaging him in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss at the same time, while they both rode the waves of their orgasm.

"It's two in the morning!" Someone shouted, banging against the wall. "Quit fucking around!"

Both of them let out a rumbling laugh.

"My hotel had soundproofed rooms," Heero breathily noted between heavy pants.

Duo was quick to remind him, similarly out of breath, "It was too far. You agreed."

Duo sat up and held both of Heero's ankles, holding his legs spread. He enjoyed the sight before him: Heero's hair tousled, his face flustered, his eyes dark, his lips reddened and swollen, his chest heaving to catch his breath, his stomach adorned with white pearls of passion, his erection lying back, softening, and – more importantly – Duo's cock still inside him. When he noticed Heero was staring right back, appreciating the sex written all over his body as well, he smiled slyly. He held his penis at the base, securing the condom so it wouldn't come off and pulled out. He discarded the tied-up latex on the floor. It was only a hotel room; he didn't worry about ruining the carpet, especially after they had torn the sheets, and he was certain that the reception desk would receive a complaint from the guests next door.

He dropped down onto the mattress next to Heero heavily and with gentle touches he maneuvered his lover to lie on his side, his back pressed up against his chest. He nosed the chocolate brown hair and kissed his shoulder and ear; his arms wrapped around him, feeling his every breath and shudder in response to their closeness. "That was amazing," he said in a breathy whisper.

Heero's reply was smug. "As I always knew it would be."

Duo chuckled softly and buried his nose in the messy hair. The strands smelled distinctly like Heero, but he also smelled of sweat, sex and Duo's own scent – all blending together in a perfume that made Duo feel giddy.

"Best. Christmas. Ever," Duo said, punctuating each word with a kiss to the back of Heero's neck.

Heero's body shook with soundless laughter.

"What? You disagree?"

"Well, I was _really_ excited that year I got the PlayStation."

"Oh really?" Duo clasped his arms more securely around his lover and tickled his side, directly below the lowest rib. Heero erupted into fits of laughter. His body shook and his legs kicked about. Duo raked his teeth along the shell of his ear and continued to tickle him. "Damn right I remember your ticklish spots!" He tickled him until Heero was out of breath, then stopped suddenly to make him turn his head so he could plunder his mouth.

When the kiss ended, Heero sported a devilish smirk. "We have two more condoms, you know?"

"Hmm..." The mind was willing but the body needed to recuperate. "Give me a minute." He rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes for a bit. Heero lay in silence in Duo's embrace, content and close to falling asleep as well.

Before he leisurely drifted into blissful unconsciousness, a sudden epiphany made Duo opening his eyes again.

"You didn't cry," he pointed out. He was unsure if that was a bad or bad sign, but felt it needed to be said.

"I didn't." Heero replied, as if it was a surprise to him as well. He disentangled their arms and turned around to face the tall American. With honest eyes he gazed into his. "And I think I just realized why I used to cry with my other lovers."

Duo raised his eyebrows in question.

"Because they weren't you." At Duo's pained expression Heero reassured him, "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad or guilty. I'm telling you because I want you to know how happy I am that this time, finally, it was you." He closed the distance between them for a sweet kiss.

After their kiss, Duo blurted out – since they were being honest, "I think I'm still in love with you, even after all these years..."

"I think I'm still in love with you too."

They smiled at each other.

With a light touch, Duo's fingers caressed Heero's face, smoothing the dark hairs of his eyebrows, trailing down his nose, swooping his thumb from plump lips across the smooth plain of his cheek, and following the sharp line of his jaw. He marveled at his beauty. He didn't realize just how much he had missed seeing his face until that moment, when he saw him so serene and relaxed and trusting. It was the way he used to see him all the time, when Heero was just a kid and Duo was just an idiot.

"What do we do now?" Duo asked, uncertainty in his voice. He wanted to stay with him forever – stay in this bed forever – but the truth was they weren't 16 and 20 years old anymore; they were adults with responsibilities they couldn't just skip out on. "My flight leaves in nine hours. I have my job in Chicago. You have your job at _the Rittenhouse_."

"We both go home. We go back to our jobs," Heero said simply. "But this time, you are going to call me. And…we'll take it from there." He smiled at him.

Duo nodded eagerly. He wasn't going to make the same mistake. He wasn't going to let him slip away again.

"Besides," Heero added with a shrug and a sparkle in his eye, "If I decide to go to nursing school…I don’t necessarily have to stay in Philly for that…"

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Shima Yi


End file.
